


Late for (Team) Dinner

by ImBadWithWords



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Human Disaster Peter Parker, Identity Reveal, Team as Family, Worried Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-28 07:10:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7630231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImBadWithWords/pseuds/ImBadWithWords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony never should have expected to host a normal, calm team dinner if Peter Parker was going to be involved. Not only does the kid show up late, he nearly gives Tony a heart attack in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late for (Team) Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> Dialogue prompt from an anon on tumblr: 10 with Peter and an Avenger (preferably Tony?)

Peter’s first team dinner was supposed to go off without a hitch.

Tony had arranged with Aunt May to have him over at the Tower and drop him home around ten. Steve and Sam were cooking, with Vision on vegetable duty. Natasha agreed to keep Clint far, far away from the kitchen. FRIDAY was to make sure no one would be able to access the common room while Peter was there.

But then the little Spider-Brat had to go and be late. That was normal, Tony knew, but Peter had been babbling all week about how excited he was to officially meet the others. He had watched the kid punch a thousand reminders into phone, as if he could somehow forget. Even if he had just been delayed getting out the door, Peter would at least have called, especially if he was going to be more than _three hours._

“FRIDAY, is Peter still not in the building?” Tony glanced out the floor-to-ceiling windows. He tossed a rubber ball back and forth between his hands.

_“No, Boss, he hasn’t arrived in the seven minutes since you last asked me.”_

“Call his cell again, will you?” He swore he’d never programmed the sigh that came over FRIDAY’s speakers.

 _“Calling.”_ He thumped his forehead against the glass.

“Hey, Tony,” Sam said from behind him. The inventor turned to see Sam drying his hands on a dish towel. “Food’s ready, man. You got any idea where Spidey is?”

“Not a clue.” The screen displaying Tony’s call stopped ringing. He looked up for one hopeful second.

 _“Hey! You’ve reached the voicemail of P–”_ Tony flicked the display away before Peter could give his name. He ran his hands through his hair, taking a half-step toward the kitchen before turning back to the windows.

“Is this kid the type to get himself into trouble?” Sam asked. The chatter just beyond the living room had died down. Tony saw the others stealing glances in their direction.

“Unfortunately, yeah. I’ve never met anyone better at throwing himself into dangerous situations.” Tony laughed. “I mean, you saw him at the airport in Germany. I tell him to stay back, he immediately decides to fight an Avenger and a wanted fugitive on his own, with _zero_  field training.”

“He’s a persistent little punk, I’ll give him that,” Bucky piped up, dropping all pretense of not eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Do you think he could be mixed up in something now?” Rhodey joined Tony next to the window, arms crossed. His leg supports whirred as he moved. “Should we go out looking for him?”

“I– I don’t know, guys, I don’t at this point.” Tony ran a hand down his face. “He might have just gotten cold feet. He was pretty nervous about telling you all his identity.”

“We’re trustworthy, he should know that,” Wanda said. She, out of all of them, had been the most excited to meet Peter. She looked disappointed.

“It’s not an issue of trust,” Tony rushed to reassure her, “He’s just got family he needs to think about.”

There was silence as everyone mulled over his words. It was broken by a _crash_  out on the landing.

Tony shot across the room, deploying his watch gauntlet, ready to act. Warm night air hit his face as he stalked out onto the launch deck, the other Avengers just behind him. A figure staggered to their feet at the edge of the landing and Tony raised his arm.

“Whoa, whoa, Mr. Stark, it’s me!”

Tony huffed as the slight form stumbled into the light. The wide white lenses of Spidey’s mask met his eyes.

“Not a threat. Hi there!” Peter continued. He waved at the gathered heroes. Only Bucky waved back.

“You’re late, kiddo,” said Tony, feigning annoyance, feeling relief. 

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about that.” As Peter moved forward, Tony noticed a slight limp. Spidey moved unsteadily, like he wasn’t sure where to put his feet. “There was this whole– whole _thing_  that started when I was going through Hell’s Kitchen, and I mean, like, I couldn’t _not_  step in, but it wasn’t the usual mob-type thing, it was a whole other type thing, and I mean it was really cool but also really _not_  cool, y’know, because it was happening in the streets and there were people around and–”

“You can tell us all about it later, alright?” Tony deactivated his wrist gauntlet and took Peter by the shoulders. “Are you injured?”

Peter actually looked down at himself before answering. “I, um. I know I took a hit to the head. I’m not sure if I got hurt anywhere.” Tony was already maneuvering Peter’s arms this way and that, trying to find any injuries. He blanched at a deep puncture wound in the kid’s side.

“You’re bleeding, of course you’re bleeding!” Tony exclaimed. “Just once I’d like to run into you when you’re _not_ bleeding!”

Sam hurried forward at this. He took one look at the gash and pressed the dishtowel still in his hand against Peter’s side. Spidey startled and tried to step back.

“Hey, hey, you don’t have to– oh, man, I’m bleeding all over your stuff, I’m sorry,” Peter babbled.

“We should get him inside, get some stitches,” said Natasha. Tony nodded and started ushering the tiny vigilante across the landing. Peter’s hushed protests that he was fine went ignored. Sam deposited him on the couch, then went in search of the first aid kit. When he returned, the entire Avengers team was huddled around the kid on the sofa.

“I’m fine, really, I heal fast,” Peter insisted.

“Just because you don’t _need_ help, doesn’t mean it’s a bad idea,” said Sam. He gestured to Spidey’s injury. “May I?”

Peter lifted the top half of his suit just enough to expose the wound. It wasn’t as bad as Tony had initially thought. The inventor asked Peter about what had happened as Sam stitched him up. Before long, Sam declared he was finished.

“Thank you,” said Peter, voice low, as he adjusted his suit.

“Don’t worry about it, kid.” Sam smiled. Even with the mask, Peter’s answering grin was evident.

“I, um, I guess I might as well–” Peter hooked his thumbs under the edges of his mask. He removed it slowly. The mask pulled at his messy brown hair, mussing it up even further. “Hey, everyone. I’m Peter.”

**Author's Note:**

> #10: "You're bleeding, of course you're bleeding!"


End file.
